


Shades of Grey

by SwoodMaxProductions



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Character Study, Coping Mechanisms, Demise is a sick fuck, Gen, Good Ganondorf, Good Ghirahim, Insecurity, Malice poisoning, Past Abuse, Self-Hatred, headcanons, sad grey boy...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwoodMaxProductions/pseuds/SwoodMaxProductions
Summary: A brief look into Ghirahim, his self-image, and the physical, in addition to psychological, effects of long-term exposure to Demise and his Malice.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Shades of Grey

**Author's Note:**

> So I headcanon Demise’s curse/Malice has the physical effect of grey-tinted skin...

He was beautiful.

But that was a long time ago.

When the steel of his blade had cooled, when the Forgemasters of the Deep Shrines spoke his name and brought him into being, his humanoid guise had looked much different. 

And then they had presented him to his master. 

Demise always had a way with breaking beautiful things.

His master’s soul seeped into his, anchoring itself, burrowing into the wounds he’d left in his psyche. The black, gold, and red in his hair all began to fade as he lived in servitude. The years passed, and the brilliant gold markings on his body were indelibly blackened with Malice. His dignity was ground to dust and spat upon, and eventually he found he could no longer replicate a human skin tone. Every time he reconjured clothing, his black bodysuit got closer and closer to a barren white. He was beaten, degraded, and his eyes became dark, colorless voids of madness, the dark circles around his sunken eyes the closest thing he had to color.

Ghirahim had been damaged beyond repair. He was loath to admit any betrayal, any resentment of his master, but… gods, he was  _ hideous _ . He existed in a miserable greyscale, a cloak of red and gold wrapped about his pallid body like a security blanket, a pitiful substitute for the colors that he had once been able to manifest. The beauty he once possessed.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t try. Oh, how he tried. He said it aloud. To anyone. He was beautiful. He was beautiful. Perhaps one day he would believe it. He tried to look his best at all times, desperately clinging to the shards of his long-shattered dignity. His personhood he may never even have had to begin with.

His new master, the human vessel known as Ganondorf… he bore the same ugly marks. The same sickly grey-green tint had seeped into his skin, the same hollow stare gazed back from his sunken, haunted eyes. 

But his fighting spirit still burned strong. Ganondorf was not just any warrior, he was a  _ Gerudo _ warrior, proud and resilient. He fought for his freedom, for his people.

For his sword spirit.

Perhaps they could share the pieces of their psyches, putting them together into something a bit less broken.


End file.
